When Darkness Falls
by Usagi Tuskino
Summary: Black Phantoms terrorize the cities at night. Misty Waterflower becomes their main target, but works alone. With the help of an unwanted bodyguard, whom she later realizes is Ash Ketchum, the two engage in a test of loyalty, trust, and betrayal. [AAML]
1. Chapter One

-1**Disclaimer:** I do not own Pokemon.

**When Darkness Falls. . .**

_By Usagi Tuskino_

**Chapter One**

It was dangerous. Despite that known threat, she had come out anyway, determined to test her theory and prove it right. Before, she would have boldly declared it bravery but now she only saw it as stupidity on her part. Had her life really become so meaningless that she did not think twice about throwing it in situations she was not sure she could get out of? Honestly, she was afraid to answer that question.

The sky was black, not a single star seen shining through the heavy clouds that filled the sky. Although, from where she stood, it was quite near impossible to distinguish the sky from the earth. The street light, which she had been expecting to be lit, was out and that only added more to her rapidly mounting problems. She had been at this very spot earlier, had actually scouted this entire part of town for days before coming out tonight. For that reason, she knew the nearest street light was a little less than a mile away. In order words; she was in a lot of trouble.

They saw her the same moment she saw them---she ran. Inwardly, she cursed herself, angry that she hadn't thought of the possibility of her plan being ruined by a street light going out. She was well aware of the fact they ran faster than her and it was only a matter of minutes before they caught up to her. The awful truth had her heart slamming against her ribs; she had no plans on how to escape them. Only the desperation to survive kept her feet pounding against the pavement, her skinny form flying down the deserted alley while her mind reeled with panic, sending her in random directions and turns.

They launched themselves at her, two at a time, and she nearly fell to the ground as they collided into her. Luck had her back on her feet in a matter of seconds, ripping the creatures from her back and leg before taking off down the alley again. Her heart was painfully lurching in her chest, her breath coming out in rigid gasps. From behind her, four more of the black creatures threw themselves at her hungrily. Wildly, she dived for the ground, landing in a pile of cardboard boxes. All four of the monsters sailed over her head and shrieking as they hit the wall.

Her freedom didn't last long. As she shakily brought herself to her feet, two more collided painfully into the back of her head, causing a scream to rip from her throat. Her knees buckled beneath her, sending her crumbling back down to the floor and everything turned black. Noises blasted in hear ears, her own breathing sounding like thunder. Movements shifted around her, her vision suddenly dark and gray, only the slightest shadows being made out. She realized then that she hadn't been knocked unconscious but instead rendered blind. Fear welled in her chest, sending her to her feet for a third time. She was too weak to pull them from her form as more jumped on her and after she took one step, she helplessly collapsed to the ground in defeat.

Dimly, she was aware that they were smothering her. Her mind and body gave in for the very first time and Misty finally accepted that she had been her own undoing. A loud, gruff shout from nearby sent a jerk through her entire body, making her aware that someone was coming. Hope blossomed in her chest, though she closed her eyes as they became too heavy to keep open. Absently, she wondered if they would make it in time.

"Retrieve the victim!" The voice boomed through the dark street, "Destroy the phantoms!" She felt the swarm that had began devouring her detach themselves and jerk away with shrills, shrieks, and hissing. She knew her breathing was labored but her mind was checking for more important things as she was hauled up off the ground. After a few moments, she was satisfied there were no severe damages to her person, other than a great loss of energy. Strong arms wrapped around her back, gripping her shoulders and supporting her weight which she was far too weak to support herself.

She knew she should be thankful, but instead she was furious. More furious with herself, and her battered pride, but she turned that unleashed anger onto the person holding her. Vaguely, she noticed the noises of the monsters were fading behind her as they continued to walk forward. Then, without any warning, they came to a complete stop. Lifting her heavy head, she made an effort to look around, only to frown in irritation when her vision was still a blur of gray and darker grays.

"The light of the street light will protect us for now," the man holding her spoke gently, addressing her. Misty choked then, but not on a sob. Rather, she choked on a laugh, for she found it quite _hilarious_ but was far too weak and miserable to muster up a bubble of laughter. She had only needed to run another three-hundred feet and she would have been safe in the light. Another three-hundred damn feet, her mind screamed on the verge of hysteria.

Misty quickly sobered when she caught site of a silhouette figure walking toward them. She immediately stiffened in the mans arms, not at all enjoying the excess company she was receiving tonight. She would gladly pull herself out of this mans hold and simply walk away, if she could, but she knew she didn't have the strength.

"Although she is conscious, I believe she is a bit dazed, Sir." The person holding her up explained to the man. "She may faint for she looks rather pale."

If she had the energy, she would of kicked him for that comment. Fortunately for him, she didn't.

"This woman," the man before them laughed, "Would never be caught fainting."

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. She didn't like how his words seemed to imply they were good friends or had known each other well enough for him to know if she were the fainting type. Straightening herself, in some hope of persevering what little pride she had left, Misty turned her narrowed gaze directly to the man before her and demanded in a steady voice, "Who are you?"

"How long do you plan on playing this game, Misty?"

She could hear the smile in his voice which, oddly enough, sounded vaguely familiar. However, before she could think about it, she was roughly thrown into his arms. Yelping in alarm, her hands reflexively splayed out on his chest to support herself against the sudden rough treatment. His arms circled around her small body, keeping her well supported.

"A second and larger group is spawning, Sir," the man who had previously been supporting her explained, patiently awaiting his orders.

From above her, his voice boomed, "Do not let any of them pass! I will take her to the headquarters, follow only when certain all are destroyed."

They were moving swiftly, she realized by the rush of air hitting her face and lifting her bangs from her damp forehead. She stiffened when she felt his mouth hover close to her ear, but slightly relaxed when she realized he was merely speaking close to her ear so she could hear. "They are life sucking demons," he informed her, his voice strong with disgust toward the creatures. Misty understood he thought he was revealing new information to her, but in truth she most likely new more about the situation than he, himself, did. "Humans are their target. They thrive in the darkness and vanish in the light. Whenever you are in danger, it is wise to seek out a source of bright light. I am taking you to the headquarters; you will be safe there."

He was well informed as well. Misty frowned, having suspected earlier that he was from the MorningSun organization, but now she was absolutely positive of it. Questions began to rise within her, plaguing her mind. What did he want with her, what did he know about her, and what was he going to do with her? How did he know her name, had he been researching her and knew things that she tried so desperately to hide from people like him? Somewhere in her mind she knew she should be afraid, but the truth was that she was simply far too tired and exhausted to do anything but hold onto him as he continued briskly making his way to his organization.

"I refuse to be a part of your organization," she blurted out rather bluntly, gathering his attention. He laughed then which caused her to ground her teeth together; she certainly didn't find anything comical about any of this.

"You are being targeted by the Black Phantoms," he explained in a calm voice, meant to sooth her nerves. "I cannot and will not allow you to kill yourself through stubbornness."

"I don't need your help!" She exploded desperately.

"You never change, do you, Misty?"

Again, she could hear the smile in his voice as he said those words softly. She glanced up at him, the anger drained from her to instead be replaced with confusion as she drew her brows together. "Who are you?" she asked a second time. He was taken aback by her question, but she couldn't see his expression to know it. His grip on her tightened and when he spoke, there was a hint of hurt in his tone, "You're forgotten me?" He ruined the feigned hurt by letting out an exaggerated sigh, "You mean you don't remember this beautiful face of mine?"

Apparently, he had yet to realize the obvious; she was blind. Sighing in irritation, she said quite bluntly, "I'm blind."

He nearly dropped her. "What?"

"I'm blind," she repeated dully.

He remained silent for a long time. Instead of answering her question, as she expected him to do, he pulled her with him as he continued his pace toward the headquarters that was now coming into view. Staring blindly at the blurred grays of her surroundings, she grew impatient with him rather fast and opened her mouth to send her temper tumbling off her tongue when he cut her off by finally speaking.

"Brock," he said softly. So softly, in fact, she forcefully slowed her rapidly beating heart and told herself she had heard him wrong. As though reading her mind, he spoke again in a clear voice, "My name. It's Brock."


	2. Chapter Two

**When Darkness Falls. . .**

_By Usagi Tuskino_

**Chapter Two**

There was the sound of a door slamming and a tall figure cloaked in all black stormed into a spacious one-bedroom apartment. The figure lifted both of his arms, shoving the hood of his cloak back in order to reveal a mass of thick dark brown hair. So dark that it could easily be mistaken for black. His fingers glided down his clothing with a deftness, fluidly unbuttoning and parting the inky black cloth from his body before throwing it onto his couch. Without a sound, he moved through the living room and stepped into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. The sound of water proceeded afterward.

Twenty minutes later the phone rang. A loud shrill which echoed throughout the entire apartment, but if you were to be standing outside the door, amazingly enough, you would not hear the slightest sound of it. His apartment was soundproof, though that was little surprise since the building itself was owned and operated by the MorningSun organization and a large majority of the members boarded here for temporary means.

The dark haired man walked out of the bathroom, a white towel wrapped around his shoulders to catch the water of his drying hair. A white towel which seemed small and out of place on his tanned skin and underneath his dripping black hair which clung to the hard features of his face. A growl escaped him, dark and angry, as he stalked across the living room and stopped before the small wooden desk next to the sofa which adorned the phone.

"What do you want," it wasn't a question but rather a demand laced with irritation. "The job was completed hours ago."

"My reports say that you ran into trouble afterward," came the reply on the other end.

"I needed a drink."

A sigh and then, "Such places are always trouble. Be more cautious next time, Ash."

Ash remained silent for a moment then, remembering the time, narrowed his eyes and asked a second time, "What do you want, Brock."

"It breaks my heart," Brock answered, his deep voice laced with sarcasm, "that you speak, even to me, so shortly."

When Ash didn't bother to give a response, he continued in a strictly business manner. "Something has come up. I want you down here immediately."

"Understood."

The phone went dead, Ash placing it back on its receiver before leaning to the side to pick up the cloak he had thrown down after first entering the apartment. Just as swiftly as it had been taken off, it was put back on. Before exiting the apartment, he grabbed the two swords hanging on the wall within their scabbards and placed them through his belt. The sound of the lock turning was the only indication of his leave for he had already disappeared into the darkness as though he had never been.

-------

4:25am. Brock sat behind his large oak-wood desk with a pile of papers before him, one of which he currently held in his hands and was skimming over. It didn't stop him, however, from lifting his gaze over to the clock hung on the far wall, dark eyebrows coming over his narrow eyes in impatience. A few minutes later, the door opened and closed soundlessly, a dark figure entering the room a few feet before stopping.

"You like to take your time," Brock grumbled, shuffling his stack of papers before placing them neatly down on his desk. Standing from his seat, he motioned for his long time friend to take a seat, even while knowing that it was something he would get him to do.

"I'm here now," Ash responded, taking a moment to scan the room, but when he turned his attention back to Brock he did not move forward.

"I am in need of your assistance, Shadow Master." The Leader of Pewter City MorningSun division began in a tone of grave seriousness. "This will not be one of your usual assignments, however. There is a young woman who has recently fallen into our possession. She is blind and a target of the Black Phantoms. According to her, they have been attacking her for over a year.

"When we found her, the phantoms were attacking in large numbers." Brock paused, closing his eyes and placing his forehead against his joined hands before continuing, "Much larger than any previously recorded attack. We need a master capable of taking down such large numbers while keeping the victim safe. We also need a master capable of recording data on their attack patterns and actions which requires a vast knowledge of the enemy."

The air was charged with a icy silence, the man known as the Shadow Master standing as still as a statue in the middle of the room, his facial features masked by the darkness of the hood which covered his head. When he finally did speak, his tone was as chilly as the air surrounding him, "I am an assassin, not a protector. I kill, not protect. Find someone else."

"You are the only master who falls under the category of all that was listed." Brock didn't wait for the man across the room to further reject the assignment. Instead, he raised his hand in order to silence him, lifted his head to stare directly at him. In an even tone that spoke of years of authority, he said, "It is an order. Accept or be terminated."

Ash's eyes narrowed, but he did not object. Brock knew this as a sign of accepting the situation since he had given him no other choice in the matter. He didn't use such threats often and Ash knew that when he did, it only showed how serious the situation was. With a broad grin, the brown haired leader pressed a button on the telephone next to him and spoke into the speaker phone, "Send her in." The secretary's female voice rang an affirmative before the line cut off and Brock turned an amused grin over to the figure in black. "This one has a temper."

------

Misty moaned against the softness of her fluffy white pillow, slowly regaining consciousness as voices entered her room through the door. Her senses all flooded back to her at once, causing her to jerk up from the bed in a panic. _Damn!_ How had she fallen asleep? The last thing she remembered was being escorted to this room and thinking that she would wait a half-hour to an hour after they left before finding a way to get out. The answer came to her with a flare of temper; Brock. He'd given her some water to drink and she had, stupidly, drank some of it. It must have been a sleep inducer. _Damn him!_

"The leader wishes to speak with you," A man said as he, and another man walked into the room. Misty rubbed her irritated eyes, only being capable of making out the slightest of an outline. Their solid gray figures darker than the doorway behind them where she guessed light was flooding into her room. She instinctively jerked back as they reached out for her and then began fighting ruthlessly as they picked her up off the bed.

"I'm blind, not paralyzed!" She hissed, fighting against the man who was holding her until he finally set her down on the ground, although keeping a firm grip on her wrist. With as much dignity as she could muster, Misty threw her chin up and said evenly, "Take me to him." Silently furious, she glared out at the men before her, jaw clenched. Take her to him, indeed! So that she could punch him for drugging her.

The door burst open, two soldiers and a woman entering through muttered curses, shouting, and grunts. Brock had expected such a scene to unfold and he was attempting to hide his amusement as the young red haired woman came into the room, struggling against two men trying to keep their hold on her. She managed to punch one of them, freeing her arm in the process, while hissing angrily, "Let go of me, you ass!"

Brock's laughter brought her head whipping around in his direction, blue eyes narrowing on him. "Tell them to release me this minute or so help me God, I'll--"

"Take your leave," Brock cut in, motioning the two men to leave with a simple wave of his hand. The two immediately released the woman, turned, and exited the room.

Ash was deadly silent, the air around him frigid. A couple of emotions appeared to flicker across his facial features for all of a half a second, too quickly to be identified, before all emotion dropped from his features and he turned ice-cold golden eyes to Brock. Without a word, the dark-clad man stalked across the room and exited to another, slamming the door behind him. The resounding crack echoed throughout the room from the force at which the door had been slammed, both Misty and Brock staring at the door.

"Excuse us for a moment." With that, Brock followed through the door, closing it behind him.

------

"Explain," Ash growled from where he stood next to a window overlooking the dark city. "Now."

Brock was no longer smiling or finding the situation amusing. Judging by the furious look across Ash's face, he could easily determine that the man was one second away from resigning from Pewter City division and taking his services elsewhere. "Ash," he began hesitantly, taking a step forward. "She needs your help."

"Does it look like I give a damn?" Within an instant, he was standing before Brock, grabbing his shirt collar and hoisting him up. Ash no longer was the small boy that he had once been, in fact, he now stood a good head above Brock, standing over six feet tall. "The deal is off."

"Protect her, dammit! If you don't, she will _die_."

Ash remained silent after Brock's outburst which gave the man incentive to continue, "They attack her in large groups. She's blind, defenseless, and they'll eat her alive. They'll suck her dry until she can't move or breathe. She'll die on the streets all because you were too damn good to protect a victim!"

The man in black cursed savagely under his breath. A couple moments of silence passed before he finally replied, "Two weeks."

"Two months."

"One _month_," Ash said with finality. "Then you get a replacement."

"Accepted."


	3. Chapter Three

**When Darkness Falls**

by Usagi Tuskino

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Thank you, everyone, for your reviews. It's very much appreciated. I know my updates are far and few in between but please try to bare with me. I've spent a lot of time trying to make a rough draft of this story so rest assured, I will slowly progress with it. Ash and Misty will forever be in my heart, I do adore them. 

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Pokemon or any of the characters associated with it.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Misty wasn't entirely surprised about the way Brock was handling her. A few years ago she had up and gone missing, secluding herself away from her old friends along with the rest of the world. Her entire purpose in life had changed to that of the Black Phantoms and acquiring knowledge on what they were and how to destroy them. Two years of her life had been drained away by the endless work, experiments, and reading of ancient scripts that spoke of similar creatures. It was all for naught, however, for she was no further ahead than she was those years back. They really were an enigmatic race that were inconceivable.

She was well aware that Brock, former friend and Pewter City Gym leader, had taken the head position in the Pewter City division of the Morning Sun organization. It wasn't at all that she disliked him; in fact, he was a very honorable man with favorable intentions. His goal was like many others**—**to erase the Black Phantoms from existence**—**and he was actually one of the ones to stand up and take action rather than flaunt words. Misty, however, was suspicious of all parties. Previous encounters with the Morning Sun organization were not something she smiled upon. She was even under the impression that some year ago, during one of her less-satisfactory experiments, the branch had openly stood by while she was being attacked in order to record useful data regarding attack patterns.

Needless to say, since then her opinion of the organization was far from approving. Misty stiffened from where she stood, hearing the sound of a door open followed by heavy footfalls coming across the room. Her intention today, since she was already here, was to persuade Brock to release her. Regardless of her current state, Misty was quite capable of taking care of herself. Aside from that, she had no intention of becoming a guinea pig for more of their experiments.

Staring straight ahead, she concentrated on the dull hint of two shadows moving before her vision. The two men stopped before her and she unconsciously held her breath. Even though she could not see, she could feel the intense aura of malice nearly radiating off of one of the men. For reasons unknown to her, he was furious. Inwardly cringing away from such a powerful blast of emotion, Misty was happy to turn her attention toward Brock the moment he began speaking.

"Morning Sun agent number one-five-nine-three," Brock stated in a calm voice that was achingly familiar to Misty's ears. "Introduce yourself."

Ash, more familiarly known as the Shadow Master, glowered over at the red head standing directly across from him. He was clenching his fists so tight his knuckles had turned a stalk white. It took more force than he would of liked to admit to control his rising fury. It was nearly at a boiling point and he wanted nothing more than to let it spill over. He had half a mind to ignore his superior along with the bitch in front of him and simply walk out of the room. Instead, he managed to say in an ominous voice, "One-five-nine-three otherwise known as the Shadow Master."

His lips cruelly twisted upward in a satisfied sneer as he watched her flinch and draw back in reaction to both his cruel tone and the nickname. Brock decided to step in when he realized that Ash wasn't going to bother to say anything more but instead let the silence hang while the confusion and tension built up within the blind woman standing opposite of them. "I have assigned him as your protection," he coaxed. "He is perfectly suited for the duty and you will be safe."

Misty appeared to be offended. It was confirmed when she remarked sarcastically, "Ah yes, I'm sure the Shadow Master, a killer who works in the shadows, is perfectly suited for the job of protector." Crossing her arms over her chest, she aimed a stubborn glare toward Brock. "I refuse to be given a bodyguard, let alone one who is an assassin."

"You had better watch your tongue, girl." Ash hissed, fury lighting up his eyes and making them appear molten gold. In a low growl, he warned, "I just might do the Black Phantoms a favor and kill you myself."

"I believe my point was just proven," Misty replied immediately, seemingly unfazed by the harsh tone of the Shadow Master. "The only job he is perfectly suited for is that of murder and I don't have a death wish as of yet."

Inwardly, Brock let out a foul curse and then snapped his attention over to Ash, whispering darkly, "You are _not_ helping."

Ash turned his attention over to one of the large ceiling-to-floor windows that out looked a part of the city. Misty found herself exhaling a breath she hadn't known she was holding when finally the Shadow Master's intense gaze left her. Since the moment the two of them had walked up to her, his gaze had been burning a hole into her skull. Feeling shaky and somewhat disoriented, she began to turn around toward the entrance doors she had come in through. "I'm leaving now," she announced firmly. Not waiting for either an approval or disapproval, she started toward the door. However, she didn't make it more than three steps when the two men who had forcefully dragged her in took up their position of holding her captive once more, after seeing their superior silently order them to restrain her with a simple nod of his head.

"I don't need a protector!" Misty argued fiercely while hating the slight hint of panic that caused her voice to tremor when she said, "Just let me be!"

"You will be given a protector and you will listen to him." The man she had known for years suddenly seemed like a stranger. His voice was hard and unrelenting, perhaps even emotionless. He continued in a tone that left her holding her tongue, "In an hour he will come to your room to retrieve you. You will go with him; understand that you do not have a choice in the matter."

Sucking in an unsteady breath, she stared toward him with wide, disbelieving eyes. She was barely able to mutter a protest when the two men restraining her began to take her out of the room. Her mind had gone blank with the realization that she no longer knew the man standing a few feet away. The two of them had become strangers.

Brock kept his eyes on Misty up until she was gone from view and the heavy double doors closed. Only then did he allow himself to let out a long sigh, closing his eyes for a moment as he rubbed his temples and remembered the shock on Misty's face followed by confusion and disbelief. He'd been hard on her and demanding but he found it necessary. She was far too stubborn for her own good; some things never changed.

Slowly, he turned his gaze over to Ash who was still moodily gazing out the window with his mouth set in a firm line. Only for a moment did he feel a small sting of pity for the man but it was quickly diminished. Heading behind his desk, he sat down in his chair and rotated in it until he was facing his most trusted friend and hardest worker. When he spoke, his voice was just as serious as before, "Go by air not land. Contact me when you reach Cerulean City."

He watched as Ash simply continued to stare out the window. Brock knew that he heard him, even though to others he would simply appear to be lost in thought. "Keep an eye on her. She's likely to try and escape from you, despite my warnings. She's extremely stubborn and can be quite clever when she wants to be." As an afterthought he added with a smile, "…Though, I suppose you're already well aware of that."

Ash turned to leave, his eyes dark with the shadows casting from his long bangs. Effortlessly, he strode out of the room taking large, cat-like strides. Brock watched him leave, knowing full well that right now he was infuriated with him. Despite that, he had faith in him. Even though he was angry and appeared to only feel resentment, fury, and even hatred toward Misty, Brock had not missed the way he couldn't take his eyes off her for the entirety of the time he was standing in front of her.

A bemused smile lifted his lips up and he said, "Protect her, Ash."

**–****–****–****–****–****–****–****–****–****–**

Misty sat on the bed, her legs curled underneath her and her head turned toward the only window in the room. For fear of losing herself to the fear, anger, and frustration that was threatening to take her over she hoped that the common practice would bring a sense of calm within her. It was something she did often; stare out a window to gaze at the hints of sunlight breaking through the horizon. However, this time she couldn't see it. She couldn't even tell if there were any hints of sunlight. And she was anything but calm.

Without warning, the door to her bedroom burst open. Stifling a scream, Misty jerked her head around to stare wide-eyed at the figure towering in the doorway, one of her hands unconsciously having risen to her neck. That same presence she felt in the conference room flooded her senses and she immediately realized that it was her so-called bodyguard coming to undoubtedly haul her away. Rebellion sparked in her dulled eyes as she told him firmly, "I am not in need of your assistance. I can tell you are no more enthusiastic about the job than I am so please go tell Brock**–**"

"Do not waste my time," came the Shadow Master's biting remark. He quickly closed the distance between them with two long, powerful strides. Leaning forward, he grabbed a hold of her arm and yanked her up in one fluid motion. Misty stumbled to her feet, almost in danger of toppling over forward from the amount of strength he had used. She finally gained her balance only to be shoved toward the door as his cold voice barked the order: "Let's go. We're leaving."

"Where are we going?" She asked shakily. Standing on wobbly legs, it took her an effort to move forward and his insistent pushing was not helping any. When he didn't answer her question, she persisted in a much more forceful tone, "I said where are we going!"

He took her into an elevator but still refused to acknowledge her and instead treated her to his insufferable silence. Standing next to him, hands coiled into fists at her sides, Misty stared blindly at the elevator doors and dimly felt the vibrating of the elevator as it continued its ascent. When the ding sounded, the doors slid open, and her bodyguard guided her out. A blast of cold air hit her in the face, alerting her that they must of taken the elevator to the roof floor. The air was crisp and cold but that wasn't her worry. She already had a good idea of what he was planning to do and a trickle of fear was twisting knots in her stomach at the thought of flying through the air and being completely blind.

A huge Charizard stood a short distance away, its flaming tail sending a wave a heat toward them, contrasting against the cool morning air. The large reddish-orange dragon turned its piercing gaze toward its master and then the smaller woman at his side. Ash's gaze darkened, giving his long trusted pokemon a silent warning to not ask any questions. Charizard immediately complied, giving its large wings a good work out and then turning its back toward them, giving them access to climb aboard.

When Misty didn't move forward, Ash growled impatiently, "Get on."

"No, I**–**" Being crowded by the Shadow Master's large body, she was left no choice but to take a few steps back until she was pinned between the Charizard and his powerful body. Still, she struggled against him, trying to push him out of her way, stubbornly refusing to get on the pokemon. Her bodyguard's large hands clamped down on either of her shoulders, violently twisting her around and then shoving her forward. In a panic, she thrust her hands out before her in order to grip onto the fire-dragon and clumsily position herself on it.

She was given no extra time to further protest because he was already boarding after her, his body still crowding her own as he took a seat directly behind her. So close she'd only have to move back a few inches and she'd be sitting in his lap. Her breath caught in her throat, clogging her scream, as his pokemon suddenly took off into the air. Misty could feel her heart thundering in her chest, her eyes wide with panic as she struggled to hang on to the Charizard's back. "Let me off!" She shouted into the wind, "Let me off!"

"It's too late," came the cold and emotionless reply from behind her, taking away her last thoughts of hope to leave her with the cruel reality that she was now stuck with a man she was beginning to hate.


	4. Chapter Four

8:00AM

Even despite her muted vision of swirling gray shadows, Misty determined the sun was breaking across the horizon. The light of morning lit up her vision, but everything still remained an ugly gray cover. It irritated her, but in the end she supposed she didn't have anyone to blame but herself. Again, she could only wonder how she had been so careless, and how she could so easily fall into this horrible situation.

The dwindling buzzing of late morning crickets and the lower croaks of swamp toads were the only sound to her ears, as the man behind her hadn't yet muttered a word since his last cutting remark. At first, she was happy for the silence, even despite the blistering tension radiating in hot thick waves behind her. Instead, she had ignored him and focused on easing into a more comfortable position when the ride on the mighty Charizard became smooth and less threatening. But after an hour and some presumed minutes later, she was at snapping point.

Too many questions floated around in her head, consuming the silence that lay thick around her. She was overwhelmed with the desire for answers. She wanted to know where they were going, what direction they were heading, what town they were near. Had to know. As it currently stood, it would be near impossible for her to try and risk an escape if she had no idea where she was. For the time being, she was better off in the assassins hands, as loathe as she was to admit to it.

"Where are you taking me?" Her forward demand sliced the thick silence like a knife.

No answer came. At least, not a verbal answer. The menace surrounding him felt as though it suddenly doubled in intensity, pouring from in back of her in lethal waves. Before she could stop the impulse, she shrunk into herself and felt an icy chill of dread sliver up her spine. She really felt it was unfair for him to take out his anger on her, especially when she had so kindly offered him the reprieve of letting her go. However, she was hardly in the mood to negotiate with the man in back of her, and decided she could be just as uncooperative as he.

Forty-five minutes later, and she felt as though she were going to go mad. Both Ash and Brock had always told her she couldn't stand to keep quiet, and now she was one finally to believe it. The silence was eating her up, or maybe it was the memories. Normally, her mind was always filled with work and research and more work. She couldn't stand to let her mind wonder on the possibilities of what if's. It was just too painful.

She felt her shoulders slump in defeat as the thoughts had already done their damage, throwing her into a temporary fit of depression. How had things gone so wrong, she wondered. Her heart clenched at the thought, and she sunk even lower. Everything had turned so fast, and she'd completely lost a year of memories all in the span of a few minutes. What happened to second chances? What happened to love conquering all? A shaky breath escaped her parted lips, and she began to forcefully push the thoughts away. She needed a distraction, she knew, and the only thing she had at the moment was the man behind her. Taking in a quivering breath, she straightened and started to turn and engage herself into a one way conversation with the beast, if need be.

However, he beat her to it.

"Are you crying?" He asked in disbelief, and Misty couldn't decipher if the underlying tone was anger or something else. That question in itself gave her a start, and her old healthy personality roared up once again.

"Of course I'm not crying," She shot back, but paused when she could have sworn she felt him tense. Feeling slightly guilty, as though getting caught in a half lie, she quietly amended by adding, "I was just a little upset."

She had hoped to thaw a little bit of the ice around the assassin, but had been sorely mistaken. Silence once again stretched out between them, powered by the cruel thick layer of damning emotions radiating off of his large body. It gave her the unsettling impression that he hated her. No, loathed her. Despised her. The list could go on, but she pushed it aside with a shake of her head. After all, she didn't even know the man, and she supposed you'd have to have such a horrid personality in the first place, to be able to do his line of work.

The thought settled a cold numbness over her, and kept her quiet for the rest of the flight.

----

11:00AM

The campfire crackled cheerfully while both her and the assassin quietly sat at a wooden picnic table outside an abandoned forest cabin. On their way down for the midday rest, he had fished them some lunch in a nearby river before roasting it over the open fire. He had nearly thrown the roasted fish-on-a-stick on her when he'd offered it to her and she'd accidentally brushed her fingers against his. She almost felt insulted, but in the end decided to keep the comment to herself and merely ate in silence. The fish tasted dry to her tongue, as though it had been cooking too long and he'd forgotten she couldn't see to it herself.

"I would like to use the ladies room," She told him calmly a moment later, deciding she wasn't going to sink to his level of rudeness. In a curt answer, he told her to use the restroom in the cabin, and after a minutes hesitation, she realized he was going to make no move to help her along the way. Shoving her lunch down on the table, she quickly stood up and marched her way toward the cabin, deciding she'd rather face the unknown layout of the house than ask him for help.

Ash ignored her departure into the abandoned cabin, and tore off another chunk of his roasted fish, glaring viciously at the aged wood of the picnic table. His mood hadn't improved at all today; from the moment he had slid on in back of her and had to suffer the view of her right before him. At the thought, his hand clenched into an iron fist down on the tabletop. Just what was Brock thinking? He of all people knew about their past. It was like some sort of cruel joke, and even as he tried to ignore her, her blasted hair had whipped out in the wind and slapped him in the face. She was different. She was so damn different now. The color of her hair had deepened, and it now curled out just beyond her shoulders. She had become a woman, and not a single man would protest to that. He ought to know, because he'd been so damn shocked he couldn't take his eyes off of her when he first saw her. Oh, but it wasn't all that surprising. Somehow, he had known that she'd become a beautiful vixen. But she was also a witch. A scheming, cold hearted, lying witch.

It'd be a cold day in hell when he would forget as much. Never again, he vowed. Never again.

The thought made him suddenly stand up, and he cursed his own stupidity to let the woman enter the cabin by herself. Blind or not, he would not put it past her to try and use the situation to her advantage. He leapt across the small space between table and porch, thrusting his powerful form into the hallway of the cabin while his eyes began to adjust to the unnaturally dark interior of the wooden structure. Immediately alarm struck within him, a prickly feeling running up his spine and telling him something wasn't right.

He realized with sickening clarity how right he was a moment later, when he turned and caught sight of the formless creatures dragging a dazed Misty across the floor and into what appeared to be a large black hell hole covering a good portion of the wall. He'd never seen anything like it in all his time studying the creatures. And it scared the living hell out of him.

Instinct had him jumping forward and tearing Misty away. He would have liked nothing better than to have flung her back against the dust covered couch, but the strange behavior of the phantoms required him to instead keep her in his grasp. With his free arm, he unsheathed the specially embedded sword he had forged himself and brutally began massacring all that dared come after him and the girl.

A minute later he realized the giant gaping mass of blackness on the wall was indeed a portal, and the black creatures began pouring forth from it like a spurting fountain of water. They crowded the room, launching themselves at Misty without a heed to his deadly threat. It was wrong. The thought kept entering his mind as he plunged his sword into one after another. The entire setup was completely inaccurate. It was broad daylight outside. The files, files he had help document, said that they were weakened in the daylight hours so drastically that there was only a ten percent chance of seeing one. Yet, here they were coming out in angry swarms, filling the room in a massive army of black phantoms.

"…Light," He heard her plead in a choked whisper, one of her pale hands clutching at his sleeve. For the barest of moments, he could only stare into her clouded eyes. "_Please_," she added in a sob, and he was snapped back to his senses.

Knowing she was right, and it would be useless to stay and fight, he quickly made a run for the open door and flung himself and her out into the much brighter day outside. He hit the dirt and rolled to a stop, jerking his head up just in time to see a Godly amount of phantoms launch for the doorway as well, dissolving in a hiss of agony as the light penetrated them.

"What have you done?" He yelled in rage, jerking her from the ground and gripping her by the shoulders. "What the hell have you done?" He demanded, shaking her.

"I don't know," was her whispered reply before she crumbled into his arms.


End file.
